


Good Will

by opalmatrix



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Gift Giving, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 09:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: Yondu tries to do the right thing.  Sometimes.





	Good Will

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sholio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/gifts).



Peter woke up suddenly, in his bunk, and wondered what had wakened him. It must have been something really strange, because he was used to noises. Starships were an all-the-time operation, Yondu had told him, again and again.

Someone was whispering outside the door of his tiny cabin. No, two someones.

"…sure about this?" It sounded like Yondu.

"'Course I am!" snarled the other voice. It could have been any of ten or twelve Ravagers. They always sounded mean—and hungry. Peter shivered and opened his eyes a tiny bit.

The door latch clicked. The door was opening, slowly, letting in some grey light.

"If it makes the kid sick, you're dead meat," said Yondu. Peter could see him dimly, and a small, wiry shadow behind him that looked like Sagotrax, who used to fit into the small spaces for Yondu before Peter came along. They both looked over at the bunk.

Peter squinched his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep as hard as he could. There were shuffling noises, and some faint clinking and jingling, and some crackling sounds too. And there was a funny smell, like food, almost, but not. _What are they doing?_

Finally they finished whatever-it-was and left. The door latched shut again. Peter counted to one thousand, nearly falling asleep again in the process, but before he finished, the main day shift alarm went off. "Rise and shine, Shift One Ravagers! Get to your stations, maggots!"

The cabin light came on automatically. Peter opened his eyes and sat up. And stared, and blinked, and stared some more. _What's that?_

A spiky plant with dark red leaves and bright green berries was bolted onto a metal base in the corner next to the door. Its thorny limbs were festooned with shiny trinkets and gleaming wire, along which little lights blinked and winked. It was roughly cone-shaped, with a ball of big spikes at the top. Some packets wrapped sloppily in colorful sheets of some material and tied with twine were lying on the floor below it. And there was one of his old socks, bulging oddly.

He climbed out of his bunk and hunkered down to take a closer look. The trinkets were bits of machinery, he realized, and the wire and tiny lights were scrap as well. The smell came from the plant. He wondered what kind it was, and where they'd found it. Red leaves and green berries. Huh. Stupid Yondu. It was supposed to be the other way around.

Wasn't it?

Tucked under the packages was a folded sheet of paper, and written on it in very messy capital letters were the words: MERY CRISMUS KID.

The K was backwards.

Peter gingerly opened one of the parcels. In it was a tiny model of a starship, a Sovereign scout. The next one was a small stunner, a real one. And the third one was pair of work gloves, with shiny silver and black scales on the backs, really cool and just his size. In the sock was a packet of shiny little spheres that smelled like fruit and spices and sugar, in all the colors of the rainbow.

Candy.

He ripped open the wrapper and popped one in his mouth. It was a little weird, like lemon and licorice and cinnamon all mixed together, but it was sweet. As he sucked on it, tears started to leak, and suddenly he was crying his eyes out, like a baby.

As the sobs died down and he wiped his nose, the door latch clicked, and Yondu was looking down at him. "Gloves fit?" he asked.

"Perfectly," croaked Peter.

"Then stow the rest of that stuff and get dressed. We got work to do," said Yondu.

Peter put all of it in his bottom locker drawer. Then he pulled on his day clothes and his new gloves. He held his hands up for inspection and said "Thanks, sir."

Yondu looked at him oddly and then rubbed his hand the wrong way through Peter's hair. "Hah," he said.

And that was Christmas morning.


End file.
